Troubled
by immywrites
Summary: His brain was failing him for the third time that week, and he was becoming stressed and anxious that he'd never have that stroke of genius that his professors had talked about. He feared he was not as smart as he had once thought he was.
1. Chapter 1

Pythagoras frowned and threw his pencil to the floor. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he dropped his head into his hands. His brain was failing him for the third time that week, and he was becoming stressed and anxious that he'd _never _have that stroke of genius that his professors had talked about. He feared he was not as smart as he had once thought he was. His eyes wandered to the stylus that he'd so recently sharpened. Thoughts raced through his mind, all rushed and confusing. He felt as if his brain might explode, and he gripped the sides of his head tightly, willing them to stop. His hands trembled with the desire to hurt, to feel something more than the anger that was building inside his chest. He lifted the stylus with anxious hands, gazing down at the sharp edge. It called to him, beckoned him nearer. The front door opened, and Pythagoras' palms began to sweat. He jumped from his seat, concealing the stylus beneath his sleeve and knocking the chair to the ground as he moved. Jason looked at him curiously.

'Pythagoras? What's wrong?' His words were jumbled and distant; Pythagoras could only think of pressing the cool metal against his thigh and drawing a straight line, one side to the other. The thought of blood seeping through his skin made his heart beat faster.

'Nothing's wrong.' He'd become the master of hiding his true feelings these days. In an instant, the sadness and desperation, and tear-filled eyes would vanish and a cold, steely gaze would be in their place. He knew when to force a smile onto his lips, but his mask was slowly breaking. He could tell by the way that Jason looked at him now.

'Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure,' Pythagoras snapped, backing away from Jason and turning towards his bedroom. 'I'm fine.'

The second the door was closed, Pythagoras collapsed onto his bed and let out a sob. He knew in his heart that getting so wound up about something so trivial was pathetic. Nonetheless, he got to his feet and pushed his dresser in front of the door, ensuring that nobody could come in. Taking a shaky breath, he sat cross-legged on the floor and pulled the leg of his trousers up past his knee, exposing scarred, pale flesh. The sight of it disgusted him. It reminded him of the past, of the many idiotic mistakes he had made and of the way he always destroyed the things he loved. He had loved _himself _once. That was his first mistake. Pressing the blade to his skin, he sucked in a breath and dragged it quickly across his leg. It was painless and instant, a way for him to release all the things in his mind that he could not tell the others about. It was his escape from his failings and his misery. He repeated the action again and again, not once stopping to think about the blood that slowly pooled on the wooden floor beneath him. He stopped when he could breathe again, and the pain hit him like a brick to the face. Cool air blew in through the window, irritating the open wounds and causing them to sting. Pythagoras pushed to his knees and crawled to the window. Peering out, he smiled. His thought were not so muddled now, and though his leg was hurting he felt a strange sense of peace.

/

The sound of birds chirping roused Pythagoras from his sleep. He yawned loudly and stretched his tired limbs before he got to his feet and walked to the kitchen. Jason was already awake and sitting at the table. An empty plate was sat in front of him, and he stared at it hungrily. Pythagoras knew he would not have had much to eat for breakfast. They didn't have much money anymore.

'Morning.' Pythagoras greeted, pulling out a chair and sitting opposite Jason. His leg ached as he sat, but it barely registered in his mind. He was used to it.

'Hey.' Jason replied, absently. The sun had only just come up, and already he could feel the harsh hunger pains that were slowly taking over his days. He often lay awake at night, thinking of roast dinners and fry ups and every kind of food that he'd loved back home. Even if he did _ha_ve money, the only food he would be able to get was rice and olives and some kind of mush that was a strange orange colour.

'No food?'

'Hercules has spent all our money on ale. Again.' Jason leaned back in his chair and looked at Pythagoras. The man looked as if he had not slept. His eyes were red, as if he'd been crying.

'Are you alright?'

'Of course I am.' Pythagoras forced a smile and looked Jason directly in the eyes. 'I'm just tired, is all.'

In all honestly, he'd failed to sleep more than two hours a night for the past month or so. His appetite had almost disappeared, but he didn't suppose that mattered as there was no food to eat. He felt as if his happiness had been sucked out of him and destroyed. He felt empty.

'Why are you lying to me?'

The question caught Pythagoras off guard, for he honestly did not know why he was keeping his secret from Jason. He knew that Jason would not hesitate to help, he's proved that to him many times already. But Pythagoras was afraid of being judged and mocked and pushed away. He'd tried to imagine telling Jason the truth so many times in his head, but every time he'd been laughed at and called a freak and he was afraid of that nightmare becoming reality.

He got to his feet and headed for his bedroom, but Jason's voice stopped him.

'How long?' Pythagoras halted in the doorway, his hand clenched by his side. He glanced over his shoulder to Jason, who still sat with his back to him.

'What?'

'Do you think I wouldn't notice?'

'I-I'm not sure what yo-'

'You're still bleeding.' Pythagoras glanced down at his trouser leg and a wave of nausea swam through him. Of course Jason was right; patches of red now stained the fabric. He tried to think up an excuse to tell Jason but his mind had gone blank. He turned around and opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and before he could lift a hand to wipe them Jason was by his side. Pythagoras did not resist as two arms slid around his waist and pulled him into a hug. A warm hand snaked up his neck and into his hair, while the other rested on his lower back, rubbing small circles and calming Pythagoras. He hadn't been hugged since he was a child, and he'd forgotten what it felt like to be held while he cried. He hadn't allowed himself to cry in front of a_nyone _since the night his father died. Pythagoras buried his face in the crook of Jason's neck and sobbed.

'Hey, it's alright.' Jason whispered soothingly in his ear as his friend trembled in his arms.

'No... no it's not. Nothing's alright.' Pythagoras found himself wanting to tell Jason everything, but although he trusted the man with his life he couldn't bring himself to do so. He wanted to stay in his arms forever, safe and warm and wanted. But Jason pushed away a little and lifted a hand to Pythagoras' cheek, wiping away tears.

'Why?' The look of genuine concern on Jason's face brought fresh tears to Pythagoras' eyes.

'I'm not sure. Everything's just so wrong and I don't know why.'


	2. Chapter 2

The two men sat cross legged on the floor, with their backs flat against the wall. They had been talking for almost an hour; that is, Pythagoras was confessing his troubles and Jason was listening intently. He had been shocked at first upon hearing of Pythagoras' daily struggles, but after a while that feeling was replaced by guilt. Surely he should have noticed that _something _was wrong. Surely he could have helped. Pythagoras glanced towards him anxiously and Jason smiled warmly, urging him to go on.

'I-I can't even _sleep _anymore. It's like my brain just won't shut off, and I'm so tired, Jason... I just feel like I'm bothering e_veryone _just by existing.' Pythagoras rubbed his tired eyes and let out a shaky sigh. Jason's arm snaked around his shoulder, and he pulled the man closer to him. His hand rested over Pythagoras' heart, and it beat so quickly and unusually. Resting his chin on top of Pythagoras' head, Jason shut his eyes and took in his sweet smell.

'That's not true.'

'Isn't it?'

'No, Pythagoras, it isn't. If you didn't exist, well... for a start, I wouldn't either. I would have _died_ if you hadn't pulled me through that window.'

'Yes, but you would never have met _me_.'

'Don't say that.' Jason moved away from Pythagoras a little.

'Why not? All I've done is cause you trouble, Jason. I've almost gotten you killed more times than I can count, and _look _at you!' Pythagoras pushed himself into a sitting position and turned to look at Jason.

'You haven't eaten in days because I'm too damn_ stupid _to get a job! I mean, who's going to hire someone like me, I can't even draw a _stupid _triangle and-'

'Pythagoras will you stop!' Jason urged, saddened by his friends words.

'You don't realize how important you are, do you?'

'What do you mean?'

'Look, where I'm from... you're _very _important to so many people. I mean, they tend to think your work is boring but without it they'd fail their exams and-'

'You're talking in riddles again.'

'I'm sorry. I'm just... thinking of home.' Jason stopped talking and looked at the floor. He had no clue of what to say to Pythagoras to make him feel better.

'Tell me about it. Tell me about your home.' Pythagoras rolled little to the side in an attempt to find a comfortable position. His head was rested against Jason's left shoulder, and his hand rested unsurely just below the man's knee.

'Uhm, well it's different from here. Very different. There are... there's this thing called electricity. It makes light and it makes things work, things like televisions and radios and microwaves. And it keeps your house warm, too.'

'So it's like magic then?' Pythagoras curled himself into a ball and let his head fall onto Jason's lap.

'Yeah, I guess it is.'

'What's a microwave?'

'It's a big box that heats up food, and there's a cooker too that does the same. But not a cooker like a person, it's a machine.'

'It makes no sense, Jason.' Pythagoras yawned and tugged on his earlobe. It was a technique that he'd learned in his childhood, a gentle rhythm that would have him sleepy in an instant. 'How could a machine cook food?'

'Well, you push some buttons and it makes it _really _hot inside, so when you put the food in and shut the door it cooks it, just like when it's put over a fire.'

'Oh.' Jason could hear the exhaustion in his friend's short reply. Pythagoras was slowly drifting off to sleep, a smile on his lips for the first time in a long time. Jason's hand snaked into his hair again and Jason started moving his fingers in a circular motion.

'You're sleepy.'

'You saved my life.' Pythagoras stated. Jason smirked and leaned his head back against the wall before hugging Pythagoras closer to him.

'You saved mine first.'


End file.
